Evading Escape
by G112
Summary: The threequel of the Evading series: Giving up, are we? I thought and you heard. So you turned around and you couldn’t see me. I was merely a voice…and you were merely a picture.
1. Chapter 1

Chapter one:

Shmed-end

Dead end, yet again. Why even try? What was this relationship worth anyway? How could they make something so convoluted function normally? Become simple? But then again, since when was something simple worth fighting for? Simple is dull he once said…but she was tired, and maybe this time she prayed for simple, she implored him to throw simple at her, to beat her up with simple, to do anything that didn't pertain a hidden meaning…that didn't hide beneath layers of ambiguity. However, maybe that was too specific. A bit too hopeful, don't you think? She wanted a certain type of simple, which was even worse and harder to find in his blue. And yet she fought, even if it wasn't palpable to the audience, it was internal, and it never stopped. And she herself never understood it, why was she so perseverant? Was he as deeply in this as she was? Was it just her now? Was it always just her? She was haunted by these questions. And yet…she kept on fighting, even if it wasn't obvious to the audience, even if it wasn't visible.

And so she shivered, she trembled, she shook, and she cried; all on the inside, all for no one to see, or maybe for everyone to see. She decided something though, she suddenly discovered it, like it was always on that table she was staring at, like a red mug on the table of her subconscious. She was not going to fail at this, and so this, this was not going to be the end of it. Fine! He had to be stubborn! He had to abase her! To dismiss his emotions, to dismiss her…but she, she was not going to do the same. And maybe that was what she needed to discover, that was what she needed to pressure him with. Time was of the essence this time…it was always of the essence, but maybe she decided that now, time needed to be put on a pedestal and to be noticed every minute of every day; admired even! She knew what she had to do. And she knew it was worth all of what was to come. Because she knew herself, and she knew she was so far, so very far, on a different planet, on a different galaxy even from being….being over him.


	2. Visibility

_**PLease review**_

Chapter two:

Visibility

We stood at different sides of the ice cold glass. And you smirked. Nothing looked better than your smirk and the way your eye color intensified as a result of your victory. And I smiled as well. I had something to smile about, and that was…you.

I placed my palms on the frozen glass, and stared at my own fingers slowly turning…white with the cold. Then my eyes followed you as you put your back to our glass and slid down to the ground. Giving up, are we? I thought and you heard. So you turned around and yet you couldn't see me. I was merely a voice…and you were merely a picture.

It was days after he was fully hospitalized. And he was finally back in his office, resuming his twisted practice. I picked up the file of our current case, and walked proudly to the door of his office. I saw him in there. He was reading…

He had his glasses on, and I suddenly felt he was more impaired and weak in his glasses than with his cane. I took a deep breath and entered, and I carefully shut the door behind me.

He looked up, saw me and then he went back to reading. As if I never entered.

"You're quitting?" he said in a clear voice. I smiled softly and shook my head even though his attention wasn't even directed at me.

"I never slept with Wilson." I said calmly trying to start off the whole conversation on the right foot. This was an immensely great indication of how twisted and complex this relationship was.

And yet he didn't look at me, his eyes remained fixated on what he was reading.

"It's ok…I don't really expect you to say anything…" I paused then, and he said:

"Trust me…I'm not holding back…I just don't care." And still he didn't look up at me, but I watched his facial expressions from where I stood. He went from calm…to exaggerated…and then back to calm.

"Ok." I said speaking softly. I was handling his attitude with such care, as if I was kindling a small fire. And my blunt "ok" was what added the gasoline onto my infant like fire and boom an inferno was born.

""OK"? Seriously?" he bellowed in loud sarcasm. And that's when he took off his glasses…and then looked at me. I smiled, and his facial expression went into full on confusion…and so I wanted to speak.

I opened my mouth at first and nothing came out but this breath of desperation as if I had forgotten why I was here, as if all of a sudden I believed my plan will fail, and then I, alone, would have to pick up the pieces. But that's when I sucked in all my fear and raised my head both metaphorically and literally. And I spoke:

"I…you know what? I had this whole speech worked out for you about how we as a couple would work out. And how, I wont take no for an answer. And how you being self loathing and misanthropic and masochistic would want to ruin any relationship that would do good for you, but I…just changed my mind." And I really did change my mind just then, because I felt this time, it needed to come from the heart…he looked into me, as if I was this crystal ball of foggy unlimited knowledge.

"Well you'll always have Wilson, and if there's any chance you'll get together with Cuddy or Fiona, I'm all for that too…don't forget to film it." He got off his seat and was heading toward the door when I grabbed his arm.

"Three years ago, I…both my hands went numb for almost a year, and it wasn't on and off, it was simply …continuous. And I couldn't figure out, was it psychological? Was it neurological? I checked everything, I got a CT scan, I got an MRI, but there wasn't anything. I was completely healthy. And yet." And I shrugged then. I continued: "and this past month, I've been experiencing shortness of breath at night. And that's no indication that there is something wrong with my body, I'm simply, twisted and broken. I'd say you can relate. And I didn't have the "perfect childhood" as you always say. I mean its nothing compared to yours, but it wasn't "perfect". You're not the only one who's miserable, people express misery's eruption in them in different ways, you have real pain…I have fake real pain. And those are just some of the things you don't know about me… I'm sorry, about what happened with Wilson, but I'm not ready to give up on this…to each his or her pain, and while yours is real and present, mine is contrived and awake." His eyes were in this state of denial merged with shock and a bit of yes…maybe it was…recognition.

And I…was suddenly no longer a voice, our eyes locked. And the glass…The glass was starting to crack.


End file.
